She stepped into the sanctuary as if she was brought there by chance, a garland of grace embraced her with warmth and love. The church had bowed their heads in prayers. Some murmured their hearts out, pouring words after words. Others clasped their hands tight. In faith they believed and not by sight. She was humbled.
She couldn't pray at all that night. Her thoughts rummaged through her brain. Her throat itched forcing her to cough every ten seconds. She pulled on. She prayed, but coughed, prayed and coughed; she coughed more than she had prayed. The spirits overpowered her and made her shiver; the sentiments infected her from the nose down her throat like a wave. It made her cough all the more. Suddenly, a vain voice shot her right through the heart, "You are very disturbing." She was flung towards a sea of guilt and sunk to rock bottom. "Why have I come to be someone else' frustration?" She refrained to pour. She inhaled and swallowed hard. It threatened to make her cough all the more. It was right at that very moment, they sang Hallelujah. She coughed loud. But, they sang louder. It was beautiful, magnificent, wonderful, majestic and ... beyond comprehension.
How small is it pain compared to the number of blessings receive everyday? She knew she had been blessed abundantly.
How small is it pain compared to the number of blessings receive everyday? She knew she had been blessed abundantly.
What beautiful, spare and evocative writing - it feels as if I am reading thoughts, memories or bits of ideas and dreams, flitting through your mind, while you are gazing at clouds, watching butterflies or in the process of dozing off. I stopped, and clicked on the "view my complete profile: tab, saw nothing written, and then realized that your writing told me everything I needed to know.
ReplyDeleteThanks for writing. Bob